


Your Majesty

by Strange and Intoxicating -rsa- (strangeandintoxicating)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: M/M, but this is a happy ending, slight angst, that requires a warning, warning for bad puns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 04:37:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13287141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeandintoxicating/pseuds/Strange%20and%20Intoxicating%20-rsa-
Summary: With the dawn, Ignis finally gets the chance to speak the words he has always dreamed of saying.(Episode Ignis Verse Spoilers)





	Your Majesty

"Your Majesty."

Noctis smiled down at him, thrumming his fingers against the throne. "How long have you waited to say that?"

Ignis didn't even have to think about the answer, and neither did Noctis. That day, when they were so small and the throne had been so big. Regis stood between them, then, but now...

"Ignis..."

Ignis felt his feet calling him forward, calling him home. The time without Noctis had been hard, but he knew that Noctis would come back to him. Ignis couldn't live without him... And now he was here—alive and whole and so beautiful.

"I feel stupid in this thing," Noctis admits as he twists the Ring of the Lucii on his finger. Ardyn's soul, locked inside of the black metal and piece of the Crystal, did not dare to darken them any longer. He was broken and gone, and there was nothing but peace for Eos. One day, a hundred years from now, Noctis would go peacefully in his sleep and the last of his magic would destroy Ardyn entirely. "I got to look stupid, too."

"Hardly, Your Majesty. You look handsome. Very regal."

"Then I guess you've still got issues with your eyes."

Ignis scoffed as he looked up at his king. His eyes were not perfect, not as they had been when he was a child, but they were good enough. Good enough to see Noctis's face and the laugh lines that were beginning to settle around his mouth. It was different from the lines that once upon a time had carved their way through the crags of King Regis's face. It was the King's duty to care for his kingdom, to accept their burdens upon his back.

While yes, Noctis was a good king he was also....

"You look happy."

Noctis looked at him with such a fondness it made Ignis's heart seize in his chest. Those blue eyes, blue eyes that Ignis had worried would be shut forever, had brightness in them. There was hope and a future where, before, there had been nothing but death. And Ignis knew that it was because he refused to allow Noctis to die, refused to allow the person he cared for fall into the arms of death.

He had fought tooth and nail, had been willing to die to keep Noctis safe, and now—he was happy. He was alive and whole and so, so beautiful.

"Are you crying?"

If anyone else had said it, Ignis would have felt shame burning against his cheeks. But with Noctis, all he could feel was a warmth running through him.

"I would hardly call it tears, Your Majesty. Simply the dust. It's a _mite_ bit too much for my delicate tear ducts."

Noctis made a sound somewhere between a snort and a groan. "Your puns are getting worse."

"Obscenely so, Your Majesty." Ignis allowed his voice to go low and remorseful. "I've become quite the speck-tacle."

Noctis's howl of laughter was like music, and Ignis found himself slowly climbing the stairs toward Noctis, toward his King.

"Igg—Iggy, that was so.... so..."

Ignis dropped to one knee in front of Noctis, enjoying the way the sunlight brushed against his cheekbones. The time in the crystal had taken the baby fat from his cheeks, but Ignis knew that with just a bit of time and the perfected tarts he had finally figured out while Noctis slept, he could begin truly filling Noctis out. He would be healthy. He would be happy. He would _be_.

Ignis almost missed the calloused hand pressed against his cheek, running over the vestiges of the scars from when he had put the ring on. It was the same ring that Noctis still wore, but it did not cause him pain, it would never cause another man pain again. It was simply a container, and would one day vanish into nothingness on the wind.

Things could have been different. They could have been darker, more hopeless, more broken. But every morning that Ignis woke with the sun against his face, the more Ignis knew that he had been blessed. Without that moment, without that guidance on the alter, Ignis would have submitted and failed. He would have lost himself, and more importantly he would have lost Noctis.

"I know," Ignis whispered as he took Noctis's hand into his own, pressing a kiss against the warm skin of his knuckles. When his mouth brushed against the Ring, there was no pain, no burning—it was simply metal, and he was simply a man. They were both simply men who were granted another chance.

When Noctis leaned down to press their mouths together, Ignis could not deny the ripple of white near the open window nor the slightest scent of Sylleblossoms that filtered through the Throne Room.

"Thank you," Ignis whispered, and he hoped that they both understood.

Noctis breathed against his lips and the sun continued to shine—and Ignis knew that everything would be all right.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have a theory that Luna was the one who gave Ignis the prophecies. I went into a huge thing on tumblr, so if you want to find it, you can go digging over there.


End file.
